Forget Me Not
A Mother's Instinct
Monica Iero awoke suddenly, her heart beating unnaturally fast. She wasn't sure what she had been dreaming about, but she was certain it had been a nightmare - That was the only thing that could explain the speed of her heart, and why she was gasping for breath.
She felt a chill pass over her. Something was not quite right. She didn't know what, and she didn't know why but there was something, a feeling in the air maybe, that haunted her. Something was very, very wrong.
She turned to face her husband, who was still sound asleep, clearly not bothered by whatever was haunting her.
She sighed and climbed out of bed, knowing that she wouldn't be able to get back to sleep anytime soon. She decided to go down stairs and get a glass of water.
As she passed her son's old bedroom however, a feeling of unexpected dread passed over her. She walked past this room many timess a day, and the door was closed, as always. She had told him numerous times that he could always come back home, that his room was there, waiting for him. If things didn't work out with the band, or if he just wanted to come and stay a while. She made sure that he knew that he could always use his childhood home as a sanctuary, whenever he needed it.
Monica was immensely proud of her son - Sometimes she would get teary-eyed just thinking about what her child had grown up to be, in the way only mothers could. She rarely saw him these days, he was off touring the world of course, but he called her often enough, and she couldn't help but smile whenever she listened to him talk about what new places he had seen, or who he had met.
She suddenly realised that she hadn't heard from him in over a week now. Normally, this wouldn't worry her, he was busy, she knew he didn't always have time to call - But the odd feeling of unease she felt all of a sudden became worse as she thought of her son. Infact, the feeling of panic she felt was now starting to make her feel physically sick.
"I'm sure everything's fine," she thought to herself. Yet, something still felt horribly wrong..."I'll call him tomorrow, just to be sure. Everything will be fine, it's just me being paranoid...Yes, I'll call him in the morning."
The feeling of unexplained dread and worry kept her awake all that night.
*******
Gerard's POV
There is complete chaos around me. I can hear people talking, someone saying something about calling 911, people shouting, people barging through the doors of the bus to see what the drama is...
I ignore it and sit quitely on my bunk, and hold the far too still Frank in my arms, feeling numb and confused. I feel like I lost track of what is happening a long time ago.
"Shhhhhhh," I whisper to the limp body of Frank in my arms, even though he is not making a sound. He can't. Not anymore. I kiss his forehead gently and begin to cry. I cradle him to me and rock him slighty, as if to comfort a small child.
I feel like I'm watching a movie, like I'm not a part of the scene and I'm simply viewing it from the outside. Surely, nothing this nightmareish can be real?
I am all of a sudden aware that Mikey is stood over me, his eyes wide with worry and confusion. "There's an ambulance coming." he says numbly, as if he, like me, is simply moving on auto-pilot.
I hug Frank to me even tighter. "He's sick," I say, not even really aware of what is coming out of my own mouth. "He needs to sleep."
"Gerard," Mikey replied, his voice breaking slighty as he looked at me with sadness in his eyes. "I...I don't think he's sleeping."
I close my eyes and shake my head, all of a sudden feeling very angry at my brother for stating what I already know. "Don't even suggest what your suggesting. Just don't."
I lose myself in thoughts for a moment, and then next thing I know there is a paramedic stood in front of me, his eyes sympathetic, but not truly understanding.
"Are you going to let go of your friend, so we can help him?" he asks gently, as if he's talking to a five year old.
I simply cling on to Frank protectivly. "He asked me to stay here. He wanted me to stay with him," I try to explain, my eyes filling with tears for the second time in just the last few minutes.
"Gerard, just let them help," Mikey says "If you let Frank go with them, they can help."
I think for the moment, and then nod. I let go of Frank, and the paramedic gently lifts him into his arms. He grips Frank's wrist quickly, clearly feeling for a pulse. I feel as if my hearts stop when he turns to the paramedic behind and throws her a look, briefly shaking his head. He dosen't need to use words to make her understand. I too know very well what he means, but I desperately wish I didn't.
And then they walk through the door and take him away, leaving me sat on the bunk, my arms feeling disturbingly empty, knowing even then in my heart that that was the last time I'd ever hold Frank, the last time I'd ever feel his skin against mine.
Suddenly I am sobbing loudly, no longer caring what the large group of people gathered on the bus think. What point is there keeping up appearences for the world, when if it is a world without Frank?
She felt a chill pass over her. Something was not quite right. She didn't know what, and she didn't know why but there was something, a feeling in the air maybe, that haunted her. Something was very, very wrong.
She turned to face her husband, who was still sound asleep, clearly not bothered by whatever was haunting her.
She sighed and climbed out of bed, knowing that she wouldn't be able to get back to sleep anytime soon. She decided to go down stairs and get a glass of water.
As she passed her son's old bedroom however, a feeling of unexpected dread passed over her. She walked past this room many timess a day, and the door was closed, as always. She had told him numerous times that he could always come back home, that his room was there, waiting for him. If things didn't work out with the band, or if he just wanted to come and stay a while. She made sure that he knew that he could always use his childhood home as a sanctuary, whenever he needed it.
Monica was immensely proud of her son - Sometimes she would get teary-eyed just thinking about what her child had grown up to be, in the way only mothers could. She rarely saw him these days, he was off touring the world of course, but he called her often enough, and she couldn't help but smile whenever she listened to him talk about what new places he had seen, or who he had met.
She suddenly realised that she hadn't heard from him in over a week now. Normally, this wouldn't worry her, he was busy, she knew he didn't always have time to call - But the odd feeling of unease she felt all of a sudden became worse as she thought of her son. Infact, the feeling of panic she felt was now starting to make her feel physically sick.
"I'm sure everything's fine," she thought to herself. Yet, something still felt horribly wrong..."I'll call him tomorrow, just to be sure. Everything will be fine, it's just me being paranoid...Yes, I'll call him in the morning."
The feeling of unexplained dread and worry kept her awake all that night.
*******
Gerard's POV
There is complete chaos around me. I can hear people talking, someone saying something about calling 911, people shouting, people barging through the doors of the bus to see what the drama is...
I ignore it and sit quitely on my bunk, and hold the far too still Frank in my arms, feeling numb and confused. I feel like I lost track of what is happening a long time ago.
"Shhhhhhh," I whisper to the limp body of Frank in my arms, even though he is not making a sound. He can't. Not anymore. I kiss his forehead gently and begin to cry. I cradle him to me and rock him slighty, as if to comfort a small child.
I feel like I'm watching a movie, like I'm not a part of the scene and I'm simply viewing it from the outside. Surely, nothing this nightmareish can be real?
I am all of a sudden aware that Mikey is stood over me, his eyes wide with worry and confusion. "There's an ambulance coming." he says numbly, as if he, like me, is simply moving on auto-pilot.
I hug Frank to me even tighter. "He's sick," I say, not even really aware of what is coming out of my own mouth. "He needs to sleep."
"Gerard," Mikey replied, his voice breaking slighty as he looked at me with sadness in his eyes. "I...I don't think he's sleeping."
I close my eyes and shake my head, all of a sudden feeling very angry at my brother for stating what I already know. "Don't even suggest what your suggesting. Just don't."
I lose myself in thoughts for a moment, and then next thing I know there is a paramedic stood in front of me, his eyes sympathetic, but not truly understanding.
"Are you going to let go of your friend, so we can help him?" he asks gently, as if he's talking to a five year old.
I simply cling on to Frank protectivly. "He asked me to stay here. He wanted me to stay with him," I try to explain, my eyes filling with tears for the second time in just the last few minutes.
"Gerard, just let them help," Mikey says "If you let Frank go with them, they can help."
I think for the moment, and then nod. I let go of Frank, and the paramedic gently lifts him into his arms. He grips Frank's wrist quickly, clearly feeling for a pulse. I feel as if my hearts stop when he turns to the paramedic behind and throws her a look, briefly shaking his head. He dosen't need to use words to make her understand. I too know very well what he means, but I desperately wish I didn't.
And then they walk through the door and take him away, leaving me sat on the bunk, my arms feeling disturbingly empty, knowing even then in my heart that that was the last time I'd ever hold Frank, the last time I'd ever feel his skin against mine.
Suddenly I am sobbing loudly, no longer caring what the large group of people gathered on the bus think. What point is there keeping up appearences for the world, when if it is a world without Frank?